


The Fourteenth Night

by Pyreite



Series: To Fall and Rise [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Altar of Mythal, Arguments, Dreamscapes, Dreamsharing, Dreamwalking, Evanuris, Explanations, F/M, Loyalties, Reuniting, SOUL absorption, Somniari, Soul Bond, Soul boundaries, excuses, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyreite/pseuds/Pyreite
Summary: [DAI - Post Trespasser DLC] Sequel to The Vagrant.Solas goes to sleep fourteen days after Ellana has gone on her Halla migration to the Arbor Wilds.  He wonders if she'll keep their bargain or break it, only to find answers in his dreams.





	1. Chapter 1

A fortnight came and went. Solas counted the days and nights down to the final hour at sundown. He was tucked into bed, inside the modest suite he had within the walls of the home he’d built for Ellana. This wing of the Virvhenas was private. Only Cole was permitted to walk its halls after dark.

Tonight, as moonlight filtered through the shutters across his windows. Solas wondered if Ellana had always intended to force his hand. He’d made her a promise and a bargain. He’d given her fourteen days to present herself at the gates of his estate. She was to have been his guest for a day and a night, during which they were to discuss her tutelage in magic.

Mythal’s raw ability should have proven difficult for Ellana to control. But after what had happened in the College of Alchemy, Solas wasn’t so sure. He had once suspected she was a novice, able to cast the most rudimentary spells. He knew from experience, that she was capable of much more.

His beloved had walked the Vir Thenerasan.

She was a fellow somniari.

“Oh, vhenan”, lamented Solas. “You have no idea of the wonders, I could teach you”.

He yawned, the fatigue returning. It gnawed at him like a wolf with a bone. He was exhausted in mind and body. The simplest tasks, left him shaking like a leaf till every joint ached. Ellana had taken more than Mythal’s magic from him. She’d stripped him of his very strength.

Solas was ashamed of his weakness.

It hurt to breathe, to eat, and even to unlace his own breeches to relieve himself. Solas endured the bone-aching lethargy with sheer stubbornness. Cole complained often, that he should be resting when he was working. Solas was too used to having his way. Hale or not he was proud, refusing to buckle under the strain.

Weak or not, he was determined to continue his work.

Those that came to the Virvhenas needed his guidance, and his help.

“I suppose, I should be grateful for small miracles”, Solas reminded himself. “I still have my personal chambers to myself, despite Cole’s fretting. I know he means well, but I am an adult not a child. I will come and go from my own home, as I please”. Solas sighed, as he thought about his one and only friend. “I hope come morning, that he is willing to compromise”.

Solas closed his eyes, mind slipping into darkness. He entered the realm of dreams with relief, glad to forget about his weariness for a few hours. The Fade had always been a second home to him. Solas surrendered himself to sleep, letting his spirit wander where it would. He never expected to meet an old and dear friend.

Solas awoke in the Fade to a pair of glinting golden eyes, in a wizened face. Her snowy hair curled into dragon-like horns. The pointed tips were laced with thin strips of red leather, matching her armour. Solas remembered the studded leather, black feathers, and steel pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves. Only one woman had ever smiled at him with such genuine affection.

“Hello, old friend”.

“Flemeth!” gasped Solas.

“Sharp as ever, I see”.

“Are you not supposed to be dead?”

She laughed with that familiar husky rasp. “And here I thought you had missed me”.

“I do!” Solas assured her. “I simply, do not understand how you are present in my dreams. Are you a memory reflected by the Fade? Or a spirit assuming Flemeth’s form? This is not possible”.

And with a twinkle in her eye, she kicked him in the shin. Solas gasped at the white-hot jolt of pain, dreamed or not it felt real. He grimaced as he rubbed his throbbing shin. Only Flemeth would resort to such means to prove a point. She had always had an odd sense of humour.

“I assure you, it is quite possible”. Flemeth nodded to his still-throbbing shin. “Did the pain not feel real enough? Do you need another demonstration? I can boot you again if it helps”.

“Witch”, grumbled Solas. “Nae, I am convinced you are not a memory, or a spirit disguising itself as someone it is not”.

“Wolf”, she retorted. “Are you quite sure?”

“Yes, although you have not explained how you came to be here”.

“In your dreams?”

“Yes”.

Flemeth smirked. “I never said this was your dream”. She folded her arms across her chest, gauntleted fingers tucked beneath her elbows. She turned on the balls of her feet to reveal a grassy meadow filled with wild-flowers. It could’ve been anywhere in Thedas if not for that broad circular wall crawling with vines.

A dais raised upon a platform of stone, stood at its centre. Upon it were five statues. The largest were a pair of roosting dragons. The third was a faceless woman with webbed dragon-like wings. The final two – a pair of howling wolves, flanked the stairs leading to the dais.

Solas knew this place like the back of his hand. He had made pilgrimage here like thousands of others, during the days of Arlathan. He had made his first offering to Mythal, upon this very altar. Solas remembered the cloying incense, the dread in his stomach as he’d mumbled a child’s prayer. He had been an adolescent on the cusp of puberty.

A boy with black curls and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“This is the altar of Mythal”, declared Flemeth. “Only one woman holds sway here, and she is not I. You know her well, I’m told. Better than I’d thought possible, staid as you are. I hear that no one has ever turned your head like she has”.

She nodded to the dais, lips peeling back from her teeth. Flemeth grinned when Solas saw Ellana seated beneath the statue of Mythal. Her eyes were golden too, though her gaze was devoid of Flemeth’s warmth. Solas felt the hairs prickle on back of his neck. Another sat with Ellana upon those steps, in a place of honour on her right.

Flemeth snickered. “Word of advice”, she cautioned. “You’d best stay away from my daughter. She has a bone to pick with you. Although given the chance, she might stab you with it instead”.

The woman beside Ellana scowled. She was pale, slender, and as lovely as the day she’d visited Skyhold. Her hair was swept upward in a tasteful bun, though much of her fringe obscured her face. She had her mother’s eyes – a bright, burning gold. The heat of her scrutiny made Solas’s skin crawl with apprehension.

This woman hated him.

“You, despicable bastard!” she spat – the words dripping with poison. “My gaoler and my executioner! If not for Ellana, I would still be your prisoner! I lived in torment for centuries without respite! Because you refused to grant me the dignity of death!”

Solas swallowed with sudden anxiety when Ellana nodded. Her silent agreement unnerved him more than seeing the witch hale, whole, and hearty. Morrigan had been a shrivelled husk in the dungeons of the Alchemist’s tower in New Arlathan. Now she was free and keeping company with Mythal’s Heir. Solas hadn’t expected this outcome, when Ellana had broken the bindings of his spell.

The witch opened her mouth again. Solas braced himself for the backlash of her temper. The tirade never came. He was astonished when Ellana intervened. Solas was awed by the sway she held over Flemeth’s daughter.

A word and a disapproving look were enough to curb her tongue.

“Morrigan”.

“He’s evil!”

“Corypheus was evil. Solas is at best misguided, at worst an utter fool. But he isn’t evil. Don’t brand him as something he’s not”. Ellana raised a single stern finger to silence Morrigan, when she tried to argue. “Solas is nothing like that blighted creature”.

“How can you be so certain?”

Solas’ heart was in this throat when Ellana turned to him. Her eyes were soft and sad, as if she were disappointed. He supposed she was, after everything that had transpired. She was Mythal, the All-Mother of the elven pantheon. A crown and title she bore with grace for an untried Dalish huntress.

“Mythal is certain”, said Ellana. “And so am I”.

Morrigan seethed. “You trust him?”

“I don’t, but she does”.

Morrigan jabbed a black fingernail at Solas.

“It that why he’s permitted inside the sanctity of your dreams?”

“I don’t want him here any more than you do”, replied Ellana.

“Then why is he here?”

Solas tensed like a drawn bowstring when Ellana glanced his way. “I have need of him”.

“Why? He’s somniari! He’s dangerous!”

“Oh come now, Morrigan”, chided Flemeth. “Stop acting like a child. You know why he is here. We’ve a matter to discuss with him. Something that concerns us all”.

“But”, interrupted Solas. “How are the three of you here right now, inside Ellana’s dreams?”

His beloved snorted. “You really don’t know?”

“I would not ask if I did, vhenan”.

Ellana’s nose wrinkled in disdain. She disliked his casual use of that elvish endearment. The habit was so ingrained, Solas often referred to her as his heart without thinking. It was instinct, as natural as breathing. He grimaced when she glared at him.

“I will not debate the nature of my love for you”, stated Solas. “Whether you believe me or not. You are my heart. You always will be. Nothing has changed, Ellana”.

“You’re still an arrogant prig”.

“Vhenan!”

“Maker’s balls”, cursed Ellana. “For once in your life. Listen to me, Solas. I didn’t bring you here to argue, despite Morrigan’s desire to stab you in the eye. I wasn’t lying when I said, I had need of you”.

Ellana waved him to silence when he tried to repeat his question. “Flemeth”, she called. “Would you mind explaining our situation? I doubt he’d believe anything I said. He prefers to fight with me instead of listening like Abelas does”.

Solas huffed. “That is an unfair comparison”.

Ellana giggled. “That’s what Abelas said too”.

“Now, now, children”, teased Flemeth. “Be civil. We are all adults here”. She regarded Ellana with amusement. “Some more than others”.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Andraste’s arse, mother. Get on with it”.

Flemeth clucked her tongue. “Mind your manners, girl. I am still your elder by eight hundred years. Show me the respect, I’m due”. She relented when Morrigan glowered at her, black brows furrowing.

“That’s my girl”, she praised. “All spirit and fire. I raised you well”. Flemeth turned to Solas, gesturing first to herself, than to Morrigan, and Ellana. “We three form something of a triumvirate, a salasari – as the Qunari put it”.

“A triad?” asked Solas.

Flemeth nodded. “Of a kind. Morrigan and I exist within the boundaries of Ellana’s spirit. We are part of her, thanks to our mutual connection with Mythal. The details get hazy after that”.

“How hazy?”

Morrigan snorted. “Hazy enough for the old bat not to know where we begin and Ellana ends”.

Solas stared when Flemeth shrugged her shoulders. “This is as new to me as it is to them”, she admitted. “I expected to die and disappear when Ellana merged with the last fragments of Mythal. You carried the core of my magic, but not my memories. Ellana inherited that and more when she absorbed both into her being”.

Solas frowned. “This is unprecedented. In all my studies, I have never heard of such an occurrence. When one of the Evanuris transferred their soul into a new body. The vessel’s mind, memories, and personality was absorbed. It was as if they had never existed at all”.

“In simple terms, the vessel's mind was erased”, explained Flemeth. “It was a popular pastime of the Evanuris if they were mortally wounded and near death. A servant at hand often fulfilled that purpose, until a more suitable host was found”.

“How convenient”, said Ellana. “And horrible. After seeing Corypheus do exactly that to a Grey Warden. I’m not surprised. He had to learn the trick from someone”.

Flemeth nodded. “The Evanuris were as pragmatic as they were barbaric”.

“Was Mythal the same?”

“She was”, confirmed Morrigan. She ignored her mother’s reproachful look. “Spare me your disdain. I know you bred and birthed generations of my sisters to serve as new vessels. Choosing a human host had one unfortunate setback, didn’t it mother? You could grow old, while Ellana cannot”.

“Smart, girl”.

Morrigan huffed. “Parasite”.

Flemeth grinned. “Guilty as charged”.

Ellana shivered in revulsion, grimacing. “Fenedhis. Don't remind me. I know I got the shit-end of that deal”.

Solas cleared his throat with a hoarse cough. He didn’t like their topic of discussion. Mythal had been his friend and ally, before the uprising of the Evanuris. It stung to think that Ellana was disgusted by her predecessor. She was – after all – Mythal’s current incarnation.

“That is true historically, but this is different”, said Solas. “Flemeth and Morrigan exist within you, Ellana. They are freely able to converse with you and each other. They have not been subdued, absorbed, or erased. They have been subsumed, becoming part of the whole – part of you without ceasing to exist”.

“So”, wondered Ellana. “Are you saying they’ve somehow retained their individuality?”

“Yes, vhenan. It is most remarkable”.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Fascinating. Now can we focus on why he’s really here?”

“This is not why you summoned me?” asked Solas.

Flemeth smiled. “Ir abelas, ma falon. You are not present because I wished it”. She nodded to her two companions. “Glad as I am to see you. Morrigan, myself, and Ellana have that little matter of importance to discuss with you”.

He paled. “You mean the bargain we made. I see”.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” grumbled Morrigan. “You manipulative, snake!” She jabbed a finger at Ellana. “You threatened her! And us by extension with that fool fourteen day deadline!”

Flemeth tutted. “That was most unfair”.

Solas felt the combined weight of their displeasure. He gulped when Ellana arched an eyebrow.

“I tried to reason with them, but Witches of the Wilds are wilful creatures. You’d best start explaining. We have all night, Solas. And since I need to sleep. They’ll be here with me – haunting your dreams – until they’re satisfied with your answer”.

“How wonderful”.

Ellana smiled. “Quite. You’ll not lack for company at least”.

Despite his trepidation, Solas smiled too. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. “I look forward to it, vhenan”.


	2. AU - The Next Night - Alternate Ending...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A what if - alternate ending for the next night. Not part of the series canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains elvish epithets, teasing, arguments, implied sexual content, and an unexpected side-effect of bedding a somniari. Discretion is advised.

“You can’t work now”, grumbled Cole. “You need to rest”.

The spirit gaped at him when Solas agreed. It was early in the evening, two hours from dusk. The sun sat low on the horizon, as Cole cleared the small table in Solas’ drawing room. His friend’s quarters lay behind a closed door, warded against entry by anyone else. It was the one place, in the entire household – where Cole never went.

“I know. I am off to bed, ma falon”.

“You’re what?”

Solas nodded to the closed door of his private chambers. “You said I was in need of rest. You are right. So, I believe it would be prudent to retire early for the day. I can catch up on the sleep, I need. And you can stop worrying that I will stay up late into the night, reading”.

Cole frowned. “You always stay up late into the night, reading”.

Solas smiled. “Not tonight”. There was a softness in his eyes, and a joy that hadn’t been there for a long time. The change made Cole wonder. Solas had been melancholic the day before, now he seemed oddly content – even happy.

“That’s good. You need proper rest”.

Solas laughed. “Good night, ma falon”.

“Go to bed”.

“I will”.

Cole watched him cross the drawing room to the closed door. The ironbark planks were banded with lyrium-forged steel. Ancient elven runes were engraved into every piece of hammer-smelted metal. The door was one of the few things, Solas had permitted to be crafted by hand. The Dalish smiths were without equal when it came to working ironbark.

A whispered word and the elvish runes lit up, as if aflame. Cole was comforted by that familiar greenish-gold glow. The runes extinguished, the door sliding open. Solas needed neither lock nor key to gain entry to his personal chambers. Cole was relieved when he stepped inside.

He kept vigil until the door closed behind Solas. The runes’ reset, the wards sealing him away. Cole knew he would emerge tomorrow, bright-eyed and well-rested. Solas had been less morose today, often smiling, a dreamy look on his face. He’d eaten, drunk, bathed, and so on without fussing. It had been strange for Solas to be so calm, even relaxed, when he was often cranky due his lethargy.

Mythal’s magic had been more of a crutch than he’d anticipated.

Cole suspected his friend’s recovery would be easier now. He laughed when he thought of the most likely person helping him. She was prideful and hard-hearted, but not cruel. There was hope, if she was willing to make a peace-offering. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.

“Ma serannas, Ellana”, whispered Cole as he cleared away the remains of Solas’ evening meal. “If I couldn’t help him. I knew you would. You might hate him now. But you won’t forever”.

* * *

Solas found her waiting for him beneath the Altar of Mythal. She sat on the stone steps, reading from a scroll. She looked up when he arrived, brows furrowing. She looked left than right as if to see if he’d brought company. She was suspicious the moment he greeted her with a smile.

“Vhenan”.

“You’re early”, stated Ellana. “The sun hasn’t set yet”.

“I wanted to see you”.

“Well, you’ve seen me. Now, go away and come back when it’s sunset”.

Solas’ smile faded. “Vhenan. Do not make me beg. I have barely seen you in the past five hundred years. Will you not grant me an audience”. He gestured to their summery dream-like surroundings. “Even here?”

The Altar of Mythal was beautiful in its serenity. The grass was green, the wild-flowers in full bloom. Butterflies fluttered from flower to flower. Bees buzzed, the birds twittered in the trees. Solas didn’t mind the overgrown vines, or the lichen on the mortared wall enclosing it all.

It was a small piece of paradise.

“Don’t get comfortable”, warned Ellana. “This is my domain. Or have you forgotten who holds power here? It’s not for you to make demands of me. You’re my guest, until I decide you’re not”.

“I have not forgotten”, replied Solas.

“See that you don’t”.

“Are you done posturing? Shall I fall to my knees and ask your forgiveness?”

“As if you could be so humble”.

“Vhenan. I did not come to fight”.

Ellana regarded him with suspicion. She was as warm as a frozen spring, her gaze sharp like a blade. Solas felt his skin prickle as she looked him in the eye. Silence stretched between them for several moments, the tension palpable. Solas gaped in disbelief when Ellana asked him an unusual question.

“Why do you still love me?”

“What?”

“I’ve almost killed you half-a-dozen times”. Ellana gestured to the scars upon his face, still visible even in the Fade. “I stole Mythal out from under your nose. I call you names and treat you badly, always assuming the worst when you’re around. I hurt you, Solas – with my words and deeds”.

Ellana shrugged her shoulders. “I know why I hate you, so does Mythal. We share a terrible, tragic history. It makes sense, I don’t have to justify it. But what I’ve never understood, Solas. Is why you still love me”.

He exhaled a shaky breath – noting the absence of two thirds of her triad. “Where are Flemeth and Morrigan?”

“Elsewhere”.

“Gone?”

Ellana shook her head. “Never gone. They’re part of me. Remember?”

“I remember, vhenan. Will they return?”

“Not tonight. I need you”.

“Why?”

“You'll find out soon enough”.

Solas gestured to the steps of the dais. “May, I join you?”

Ellana glanced from him to the empty space beside her. She took a moment to consider his request. Solas supposed it did. He knew she didn’t trust him. He knew she couldn’t, but he hoped some day she would.

Again.

“Try anything”, she warned him. “And I’ll kick you out of my dream”.

Solas found the threat absurd. “I am somniari. I could find my way back into your dreams regardless of your attempts to banish me”. He blushed, realising his error when Ellana glared. His pride often got him into trouble around her.

“Ir abelas. I was jesting”.

Ellana rolled her eyes. “Liar. You’re named for your pride. That was a prime demonstration of it. I expected nothing less. In some ways, you’re predictable”.

“I resent that assumption”.

“Of course you would”.

Solas smiled. “May, I sit with you?”

“Why ask?”

“It is polite”.

Ellana was amazed when something occurred to her. It was as simple as it was outrageous. She appraised Solas as if he were a prized bull, looking him up and down. She knew he was handsome in the way of the ancient Elvhen. Youthful and fair, despite the scars she’d given him in a fit of hysteria.

“Maker’s breath. You’re a masochist”.

Solas reddened. “Vhenan!”

Ellana beckoned him over with a flap of her hand. “Sit”, she told him as she gestured to the vacant space at her side. “After all these years, it makes perfect sense. How ironic”. She nodded when Solas took a seat on the granite stair.

He was scowling.

“I am not a masochist”.

“Says you”.

“Vhenan!”

Ellana snickered. “Ir abelas. I was jesting”.

Solas frowned. “It is childish to throw my own words back at me”.

“In comparison to you. I am a child”.

“I do not think of you as such”.

“You should”, advised Ellana. “I am aware of the age gape between us, Solas. You are more than five thousand years my senior. Abelas is younger than you, but he’s still older than me too. I am an adult by Dalish standards, but little more than a youth by ancient Elvhen law”.

She snorted. “I’m not even old enough to be married according to Mythal. Yet that hasn’t stopped Abelas from wanting to be my husband. Or you. Flemeth warned me of your obsessiveness”.

“What has she told you?”

“Enough”.

“You could be more forthcoming”, complained Solas.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Brat”.

Ellana smiled. It was easy to annoy him. “Tell me why you still love me”.

He sighed. “It is not an easy thing to explain”.

“Try”.

Solas stared at her as if she were the sun - shining bright enough to blind him. “I cannot put my feelings into words. Not in a way you would understand. I am a wolf, not a poet”.

“I see”, remarked Ellana. She set her scroll aside, turning round. She regarded him with feline curiosity, golden eyes glinting. “If you can’t tell me. Show me”.

“You cannot mean that”.

“You’re afraid?”

It was both a question and an accusation.

“You know things are easiest for me in the Fade”.

Ellana lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. “Flemeth was right. As much as you love me. You would never be willing to show me. You were the same in Skyhold too. Hesitant to love me, hesitant to tell me the truth, but oh-so ready to lie to me”.

“It’s easier isn’t it?” she told him. “To skulk in the shadows than step into the light. Is that what I am to you? A sparkling bauble to admire, but never to reach for lest I be unattainable”.

“A thief would be bolder”, taunted Ellana. “It seems Fen’Harel is more craven than an acolyte of Mythal. I know what Abelas feels for me. He has been demonstrative in his affections. We have shared a bed for three centuries”.

She smirked. “It would make perfect sense if I married him”.

Solas bristled, cheeks flushing with anger. His brows furrowed. His grey eyes burned like a pair of hot coals. He was outraged by her presumptuousness, though he held his tongue. It was not his place to speak for her, despite her goading.

“You have nothing to say? Good. I’ll take your silence as acceptance. Feel free to leave, Solas. I’m done with you tonight”.

She waved him goodbye, a smile on her lips. Revenge was sweet. Ellana set her feet on the ground, heels braced against the stone. She tried to stand, to walk away – when a hand grabbed her wrist. She turned to Solas, an eyebrow arched.

“Something to say?”

“You dare mock me!” he growled “After all we have shared! You dare!”

“Of course I dare!” she spat. “I’m tired of your mixed signals, Solas! I want you to be plain about your feelings!”

“By throwing your relationship with Abelas in my face?”

“He loves me!”

His grip tightened to the point of pain. “You know how I feel about you!”

Ellana grimaced. “So you think, but that’s not true. I don’t know, Solas. I’ve never known. All I remember if a stolen kiss in the snow, five hundred years ago”.

“Fenedhis!”

Ellana gasped when she was dragged into his lap. Solas hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her tight to his chest. He didn’t care if her knees dug into his hips as she straddled his thighs. Some things had always been easiest for him in the Fade. The waking world’s many strings off often ensnared the unwary.

Solas liked his freedom – except when it came to Ellana.

“Vhenan”, he whispered against her lips. “Here. I will show you why, I still love you”.

Ellana nodded. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted”.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes”.

Solas groaned. “How do I know you will not regret it? That you will not hate me after tonight?”

“I would hate myself more, if I deceived Abelas”.

“Vhenan”.

“Please”, implored Ellana. “For once in your life. Don’t think or question – just feel”.

“So another man might have you?”

Her eyes turned watery. “I don’t know if that man is you, Solas. I’ve never known. Why do you think I went to Abelas? He was always sincere, always easy to understand”.

“And, I am not”.

Ellana nodded. “Exactly. If you can’t tell me what you want. Have the courage to show me for once. Don’t and come morning. You will not see me again”.

“Vhenan”.

She pressed a hand to his heart. “Just feel, Solas. Do it for me”.

He looked into her golden eyes, searching. “Is this your desire or Mythal’s?”

“Both”, admitted Ellana. “She wants to understand. I want clarity. Will you allow us to take what we need from you?”

Solas trembled at her touch. “What about what I need?”

“Tell me”.

“I have one request. You will not like it”.

“Ask”.

He took a deep soul-shuddering breath. “Return to me come spring”.

“Solas”.

“That is my price”.

“It’s unfair”.

“All is fair”, he chided. “In love and war. Do you accept?”

Ellana sighed. “All right. I agree. I will return to you in the spring of the coming year. I can’t promise, I will stay with you. Is that enough?”

He nodded. “For now, vhenan. For now”.

And with the promise won. Solas indulged himself for the first time in centuries. Ellana moaned at his impassioned kiss. It was a dream, but it felt real. Her coat slipped from her shoulders to pool in the grass, her breeches followed, as did her boots.

Ellana’s skin flushed when Solas laid her down amidst the wild-flowers.

“Vhenan”, he murmured. “Are you certain?”

She hooked her legs around his waist. She squeezed his hips hard with her knees. “Is that certain enough for you?”

He laughed. “Yes. It is”.

The dream, real and imagined, faded into morning.

Ellana woke inside her tent, trembling. She heard the faint snorting of the Halla herd grazing in the light of a new dawn. She was glad she’d slept apart from Abelas. She touched a hand to her lips, golden eyes wide. Solas had met her challenge, head-on. He’d risen to the occasion, doing the unexpected.

Ellana felt the ache between her thighs.

She reached down, fingers sliding beneath the furs. She gasped when she found slickness. She brought her hand into the light. She stared at the evidence. The tips of her fingers were white with semen, as if she’d lain with a man.

“Fenedhis!” she cursed. “It was just a dream!”

Or was it?


End file.
